TDM #5

[calderaevents]

ARRIVAL

It happens in an instant. A heavy weight in your gut, a trembling of your limbs, the world spins and you barely have time to register that you're falling before you lose consciousness. And when you awaken, it's not where you were last. Dark, unadorned oak walls surround you in a tiny room, the only furniture the bed you are currently resting upon, and the bedside table with a folded piece of parchment resting atop it that simply reads:

“The Tavernkeeper is awaiting your arrival downstairs.”

As you exit you find others like yourself emerging from the surrounding rooms. You are indeed in a tavern, but there is no hustle and bustle one might think to hear in such a place. The only person down on the main floor is a humanoid figure wiping down the bar, who smiles when they see you. They're familiar, but not, and you can't quite place their face. For some reason, however, their presence is comforting and warm.

“Welcome, Visitor. I'm sure you have a lot of questions.”

And you most certainly do.

Due to popular demand, the starter tavern and the drinks provided are available to in game characters via a portal accessible only to those with a faction gem.

DRINK MENU

FLAMEFRUIT SANGRIA a deep red wine based punch with chunks of softly glowing fruit floating in it. A single serving makes you feel relaxed, social, and maybe even a little flirty.

MOLTEN MEAD Though the thick drink itself is room temperature, it bubbles sluggishly, and feels very warm going down. The bold flavor affects your mood. You feel very bold! Like you could do anything!

BESALT BRANDY a hopefully staple drink for the brewery, this liquor is smooth and rich with a peppery bite. Ironically after consuming it, you kinda want to bite someone! Not hard! Just a little nip and nibble!

THAT ASHY ESPRESSO a single potent shot of dark espresso swirled with a gold-tinged cream. Intense and bitter with a hint of caramelized sugar. You are now very awake, hyper, and excited.

PYROCLAST'S WHISKEYa glossy black whiskey that turns a vibrant glowing orange when swirled. You now breathe fire.

EMBERMARK WINE a rich, velvety, spiced wine that immediately makes one feel mellow and calm.

CHOOSE YOUR DESTINY

As the effects of your drink wear off, the Tavernkeeper speaks once more:

”It is time, my friends, for you to find your new homes.”

You are compelled to walk through the only door leading out of the tavern, finding yourself not outside, but in a deep black, seemingly endless room with five portals arranged in a circle. As the last of you leave and the door closes behind you, gone when you look back again and replaced with nothing but that black void, three of the portals illuminate:

The first portal is surrounded by an almost blinding light, prismatic rainbows shining brightly in the dewy air outside of the tavern. A soft breeze may gently caress you, pulling you toward it. The portal seems to lead to a city in the clouds, airships and winged beings of all sorts soaring through the skies. Of the little bits of visible land, much of it boasts giant waterfalls that look like clouds melting into the land below. The portal calls to those who crave independence and freedom; and especially to anyone that wishes to find the strong bond of a family not forged in blood.

The second portal is encircled by a fairy ring of spotted white capped mushrooms, the faint scent of damp stone and rich earth wafting from within the faint green glow. Peering inside, one can see a sprawling harbor city of gray hewn stone, a melting pot of humanoid beings going about their day, and beyond, rolling green farmland and cottages clustered in small villages. This portal is destined for those who crave stability and solid ground beneath their feet. A simple life, an adventurous one, and everything in between can be found within.

The last portal is adorned with shells and seaweed, the glow of blue around it catching on droplets cascading down the circular opening. Beyond it you see a city housed inside a massive bubble deep under the ocean, spiraling towers encrusted with coral, and a variety of different creatures mingling about the streets. Outside of that bubble, merfolk swim, a massive squid engulfs the view from the portal as it smoothly glides through the water, and schools of fish disperse as it passes. A sanctuary in the sea that calls to those with a hunger for knowledge and a desire to aid those in need. Or perhaps it is the mystery that beckons you - the lure of the unknown in the depths that bids you explore it.

---

Upon following the pull of the breeze through the first portal, you are thrust into the beauty of a lively city that goes by the name of Heaven's Bow. Much of this main city feels exactly as you would expect on a city below, but there are clouds surrounding every direction you look. The walls of buildings are made with light-colored limestone, and buildings are generally built up to heights made even more grandiose by their position in the sky.

The Skyfall Docks are the first thing you notice, boasting hundreds of airships sailing in and out across the clouds with shouts that accompany a typical port city. Just outside is a fantastic market with goods not only from the other regions of Caldera, but from what some shopkeepers claim are other worlds--items sold or left behind by Visitors. Almost anything can be found in the markets if one is willing to look hard enough. Transport to other locations throughout the sky and even to the land or sea can be found here.

If the docks are too lively for you, you may instead find yourself roaming the underbelly of Heaven's Bow and finding brothels and gambling parlors filled with the promise of pleasure and fortune. The guild house for the Sylphs can be found here as well, giving out quests and training to prospective adventurers and guards alike--though none of them seem concerned with the illicit activities that surround them. Perhaps the freedom the Sylphs boast of extends to what others may deem an undesirable activity.

But most curious of all, you find a shimmering opal gemstone in your hand. When placed anywhere on the body, it will transform into a piece of jewelry with the gemstone set in the center.

---

If it was the second portal that called to you, you will find yourself in the busy city of Grey Ward, with its cobblestone streets and sturdy grey stone buildings. You are in the heart of the city, the Glass Market, so named for the colorful stained glass windows of the surrounding buildings. The scent of cooking food and the sound of barkers fills the air; watchful guards keep an eye out for pickpockets and thieves, and citizens go about their day. From here, one can investigate the rest of the city: the Sundown Docks, where both sea and sky faring skips transport people and goods. The Soot Spire, home of inventors and engineers. The Hearthstill, the main residential area. The Downs, a smaller residential area for those with less means.

Outside the city walls, one can explore acres of farmlands to the east and west, or follow Terra’s Pass to the less settled areas, but take care. Past the Skyward Range, out in the smaller burrows and villages, the influence of the city guard diminishes quickly, and you’ll have to keep your wits about you. Bandits along the road are always a risk, and the wildlife are less controlled by regimented hunting.

In your hand is a gemstone, a brilliantly green emerald that, when placed anywhere on the body, will transform into a piece of jewelry with the gemstone set in the center.

---

If the last portal beckoned you through it, you find yourself within that bubble covered city beneath the sea, the city of Salt Spire. Your ears pop with the change in pressure, and the smell of the salty sea fills your nostrils. All around you buildings made of dark stone encrusted with coral and seagrass tower high above your head, the backdrop outside the dome a deep blue, seemingly endless sea filled with fish and merfolk and all other manner of creature swimming through the water. You stand in the heart of it all, surrounded by people with gils on their necks and scales upon their vibrantly colored skin, all of whom seem intrigued by your arrival. You have many options of where to visit in the city under the sea, but where oh where will you go first?

The Salt Spire Library is right before you, an impossibly large building housing thousands upon thousands of books of all genres. Fiction, non-fiction, romance and mystery and all between. You may even find books from your world and others! Oddly enough though, no Calderan history books are to be found, and if you ask for them, the librarians and locals all choose to ignore your questions.

If scholarly pursuits aren't to your interest currently, perhaps a trip to Bluetide Market would be more your style? The marketplace is host to every manner of shop one might ever need: artisans of all varieties, apothecaries and healers in the Shimmer Quarter, the most in fashion undersea clothing shops, food stalls, and all between can be found in Bluetide. There are also the Tideshore and Fogbottom docks on either end of the city. The former allows transport to the surface via large, magical bubbles for those that cannot hold their breath or make the swim themselves yet. The latter allows people to venture further into the sea. Those without their underwater abilities are offered rebreathers for travel that last for four hours before needing to be replaced.

In your hand is a gemstone, a shining sapphire that, when placed anywhere on the body, will transform into a piece of jewelry with the gemstone set in the center.

IGNACIA'S CRADLE/EMBER VEIL

Months ago, a piece of land from Heaven’s Bow fell from the sky and scarred the land below, damaging a part of the city. From that chaos and ruin rose new life, a new ruler, and a new city: Ignacia’s Cradle. Just a short walk from the edge of Grey Ward, the gates of the city are guarded by two massive obsidian golems, and any who did not rise from the lava itself are warned at the entrance that to travel about the city will be most difficult, unless they have obtained a way to mitigate the extreme heat: be that with a charm, an ability, or a potion. The very streets themselves are paved in slabs of volcanic rock, tall spires of buildings constructed and shaped by rapidly cooled lava. The main method of travel are the mine carts, with tracks that wind through the spires ready to take one to almost any location.

Currently, the main feature of Ignacia’s Cradle is the Lava Flats, home of skilled smiths that use the extreme heat of the lava to melt the strongest metals and create unbreakable weapons, glassmakers and jewelers who fashion elaborate headpieces, rings, and amulets. These items are sold at the Ember Market on the outskirts of the Flats.

At the edge of the city lies the Ashfall Terrace, where a small farm using the rich volcanic ash and soil is in its infancy, as well as the Basalt Brewery where clever alchemists are researching ways to use the extreme heat to craft new and unique beverages that they are eager to find folk to test them out on.

---

The hot spring of Ignacia’s Cradle is a breathtaking anomaly located just beyond the Ashfall Terrace, tucked into a secluded crater formed by the celestial impact that gave rise to the city. Here, molten veins from the Lava Flats weave beneath the earth, heating a natural reservoir that bubbled to life amidst the chaos. The spring’s waters shimmer with an ethereal brilliance, hues of deep turquoise blending with molten gold and fiery orange, as though Heaven’s Bow itself left behind a fragment of its essence. Steam rises in curling wisps, carrying the tang of minerals and faint traces of sulfur.

The spring, known to locals as The Ember Veil, is both a sanctuary and a marvel of natural wonder. Its soothing waters are reputed to heal wounds and fortify the spirit, with the temperature kept in perfect balance by an intricate system of naturally formed vents and channels. The edges are lined with intricately carved obsidian benches, where patrons can soak their feet or meditate in the rising steam. Plants resistant to the intense conditions—vivid fire lilies and ash ferns—dot the perimeter, their resilience a symbol of life’s ability to flourish even in the harshest environments.

Sometimes, when two or more individuals share the waters, the spring creates a subtle connection between their minds, allowing memories to surface like ripples on its surface. These shared memories appear as glowing, translucent scenes that hover above the water, visible to all within the spring. Participants can relive moments from their lives, experiencing them through each other’s eyes, fostering profound empathy and understanding.

Another of the spring’s mystical properties occurs when bathers who enter the waters feeling drained, injured, or burdened by grief often find their vitality restored. The waters seem to draw out negative energies and emotions, replacing them with a warm, invigorating sensation that spreads through the body. In rare instances, the spring has been known to accelerate physical healing, mending minor injuries and soothing chronic aches, as though the magic itself is stitching the body back together.

A lesser-known but equally fascinating effect happens on particularly clear nights, when the moonlight reflects on the spring’s surface, some bathers report fleeting glimpses of potential futures. These visions are often cryptic, appearing as brief, dream-like flashes, but they have guided many to life-changing decisions. The alchemists of the Basalt Brewery believe this effect stems from residual cosmic energy, and they have begun experimenting with enhancing it through the addition of rare minerals and lunar elixirs.

RADIANT SUN

The day begins like no other, with the skies painted in hues of golden-pink as the Radiant Sun ascends. Its light spills over the world, warm and soft, caressing the land and filling every heart with a sense of peace. Beneath its glow, emotions of love and connection bloom like never before. Strangers exchange heartfelt smiles, old friends embrace as though no time has passed, and lovers find their feelings deepened, their bonds strengthened.

Even the air feels different—lighter, sweeter, as though the universe itself is celebrating. The songs of birds harmonize with the melodies of impromptu musicians who feel inspired by the sun’s radiance. Those with magical abilities sense their powers of healing and creation magnified, as if the sun itself lends its strength to their intentions. Long-held grudges seem to melt away under the sun’s tender gaze, replaced by tears of reconciliation and words of forgiveness.

The Radiant Sun touches every heart differently:

◾A widow finds peace as memories of her late spouse no longer bring sorrow but gratitude for the love they shared.
◾A timid youth finds the courage to confess their feelings to the person they’ve admired for so long.
◾A gruff warrior lets down their guard, laughing freely with their companions for the first time in years.

For a fleeting moment, the world feels as it should be—unified, harmonious, and drenched in love.

But as the day wanes and the Radiant Sun dips below the horizon, an unease begins to settle...

JEALOUS MOON

The golden light gives way to deep purples and silvers as the Jealous Moon rises, its glow pale and cold. Its light pierces the heart, not to warm it, but to expose the insecurities that lie buried within. Where love had flourished during the day, doubt begins to creep in.

Under the Jealous Moon’s influence, emotions twist and darken:

◾A once-reconciled pair of siblings argue over old grievances, as jealousy over perceived favoritism resurfaces.
◾A couple, who had spent the day lost in each other’s arms, now question each other’s loyalty and intentions.
◾A nobleman, inspired to be generous during the day, grows suspicious of those who received his gifts, fearing they may exploit his kindness.

The air grows heavy with tension, and the magic of the Radiant Sun fades, replaced by the sharp sting of distrust. The moon’s pale light seems to follow people like a judgmental gaze, amplifying every fear, insecurity, and lingering resentment.

Worse still, the night seems endless, as though time itself has bent beneath the weight of the Jealous Moon’s envious glow. For three long days and nights, the moon lingers high in the sky, its pale, piercing light casting a shadow over hearts and minds, amplifying discord and despair. Its power sows strife among even the closest bonds, driving some to dangerous extremes. Yet, when all seems lost, the scholars of the three factions unite their wisdom and uncover a glimmer of hope—a means to dispel the moon’s cruel influence. For those who have not yet succumbed to jealousy’s grip, there remains a chance to reclaim harmony, a chance for redemption before the damage becomes irreversible.

The solution lies not in complex rituals or rare relics but in the simplest and most instinctive actions: physical connection. To weaken the moon’s hold, people must embrace one another—offering a hug, a handshake, or even resting a hand on someone’s shoulder. These gestures of closeness disrupt the isolation and mistrust that the moon thrives upon. Sitting side by side or holding hands creates a barrier against its oppressive light, reminding the afflicted that they are not alone. Even small acts, like sharing warmth through proximity or clasping arms in solidarity, build a shield of connection that the moon cannot penetrate.

As these actions ripple through the night, the Jealous Moon’s light begins to dim, its sharp, cold glow softening until it fades from the sky entirely. The tension in the air lifts, replaced by a quiet calm that feels almost foreign after the chaos of the past three days. Slowly, the world seems to exhale, and the darkness that clung so tightly to the hearts of many begins to loosen its grip. People step back from the brink of despair, their minds clearing as if waking from a long, disorienting dream. Relationships strained by the moon’s influence begin to mend as apologies are exchanged, tears are shed, and bonds are reaffirmed.

ALL IS WELL(?)

With the Radiant Sun rising again, its golden-pink hues spilling across the horizon, life begins to return to normal. The birds resume their morning songs, markets reopen, and the hum of daily activity fills the air once more. Though traces of the moon’s influence linger in whispered memories, there is a collective sense of relief and gratitude among the people—gratitude for the light, for connection, and for a second chance to heal.

In the outskirts of Ignacia's Cradle, Aella and Terra, two of the three leaders of the factions, come together to address the gathered crowds. Together they assure the people that this celestial event was a rare anomaly, something never before recorded in the annals of history. They explain that while the Jealous Moon’s influence was unprecedented and deeply unsettling, it was a unique alignment of cosmic forces that is unlikely to occur again in their lifetimes—or ever.

The leaders thank the people for their resilience and compassion, emphasizing how their acts of unity—simple gestures of closeness and connection—proved stronger than the moon’s envy. They commend the scholars for their quick thinking and the Visitors for their role in guiding others through the chaos. Finally, they urge everyone to move forward, not in fear of what has passed, but with the knowledge that even in the darkest moments, their strength lies in the bonds they share.

QUESTBOARD

Settled in? Good. It's time to make your way to the Questboard located in every city in numerous, easy to access locations. That is, if you want to make any kind of impact on the world or just get some Bones for anything you might wish to purchase. Visitors are given a very small stipend in which to survive every month, but all it does is keep you fed and housed. These quests will assure you greater wealth, and they're the main reason you're here: each finished quest helps the Calderans fix their shattering world.

Quests can be accepted at the questboard via magically signed parchment upon the board. Just sign your name to accept and the paper will be whisked away... somewhere. You're not actually sure. Probably nothing to concern yourself with.

Once quests are completed, earned Bones will be dropped off at the character's residence by Bonita, the mysterious artisan who has supposedly handcrafted every Bone circulating in Caldera. Please do not speak to her, she startles easily.

*February will be the last month to complete quests for this rotation. New ones will go up on March 1st.

OOC NOTES

Welcome to Caldera's fifth TDM! All characters awaken in a strange tavern with nothing save the clothes on their backs, all of their powers stripped, and a piece of parchment directing them downstairs to the Tavernkeeper. There is a thread of all questions answered by the Tavernkeeper here, and if you have more, feel free to ask there for what would be offered ICly.

For OOC questions, please direct themhere.

All locations are available to be explored! Ignacia's Cradle and Ember Veil have been added, along with details about the Violet Drop regarding the Cult of Triton.

The TDM is game canon and all completed quests can be carried over once accepted into the game.

Participation in the Radiant Sun/Jealous Moon effects is not mandatory.

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Comments

[odare]

Oh, he likes the sound of that gasp very much. As Bel talks, he traces the tip of his nose up his neck to behind his ear, where he brushes his lips lightly near his hairline.

"Aw... I'm glad you trust me. Sometimes I think people treat me better than I deserve, here."

[arlathvhen]

More ragtag than previously estimated, then. But--"They grew up with you, and left you for dead--!?" The context hits harder than the idea of some ragamuffin crime group leaving a cohort behind. That is family. It would be like a Dalish abandoning a member of their clan.

The explanation of the aeormaton is treated with substantial more confusion. After a long moment of thought, she recalls that sometimes spirits possess suits of armor, and it must be a similar situation. It reflects well on Ashton, she decides, that they would befriend a spirit and not judge them for their appearance. But she's pulled back from her musings when she learns of Bertrand.

"Oh, Ashton. That's awful. I'm glad that he brought your friends together, and that you honored him in your name. But I'm sorry to hear that he died. Did you catch who did it?" For a man that had been as important as this man seemed to be, Beleth knew that she would be chomping at the bit to avenge him, in Ashton's shoes.

CW: suicide

[dreamflowers]

"A pretty cage is still a cage. All I ever wanted was to be free."

Maybe it wasn't all she wanted, but freedom certainly ranked pretty high on her list. And being here, unable to make her own choices whether she stayed or left, lived or died. She'd told Finnick as such, that she didn't intend to set roots, or surrender to the illusion of complacency while she knew her world was dying.

Including the people left in it that she cared about, or at least felt that they didn't deserve to disappear just because Jade herself wanted so badly to. What a contradiction she is.

"No, I don't regret it, either." Jade pauses, turning her head slightly to look at Imoen with her good eye, before looking away again. "Or meeting you."

[lostinasong]

Grace figured that was an amused sound rather than a horny one--though, when she examined the memory later because dear God was she going to be laying awake going WHY DID I DO THAT at 3 AM--she'd probably register the note of horniness. "I'm really sorry," she mumbled, half wanting to down the rest of her drink in one go and half afraid that if she did she might just start biting everyone. She picked the fancy glass up and moved it far away from her back across the bar. "I think, uh, maybe I stick with water, for the rest of the night."

[lostinasong]

"I would be...hmmm...you know, not as surprised as I wish I was." Shaking her head, Grace turned in the water to lean her head back against the edge, stretching her arms out in front of her. "Cause I'm betting your pretty face has way more to do with it than anything coming out of your mouth."

[youknowwhothisis]

He felt something twist in his chest as the tears fell. For a worried moment, he wondered if he'd tread a line he shouldn't have. Not in this. Not with her.

But she moved and the doubt quieted. He curled, his arms winding around her in kind. His tail eased around them both, a habit so, so old yet never forgotten. In his core, he was relieved he could be like this again.

How could he not make the offer? This is someone who took the most hated being in creation, a title that deeply frustrated him and placed a heavy yoke on his shoulders, and gave him a chance. He knew he was weird. He knew he was pretty annoying. But she didn't seem to mind. She seemed to just... accept the things he'd divulged about himself, despite his worries about if it'd change anything. It made him want to tell her more, so much more...

"...And you! I'm so glad. I... I'm..."

He bit it back, realized he'd just contradicted the thought he had just a moment before. But there were easier ways to express, ways he was more comfortable with. Ways as easy as breathing.

♫♪ I won't pretend, I've been desolate ♪♫
♫♪ I won't pretend, I've been blue ♪♫
♫♪ It happened so quickly, one second it hit me ♪♫

♫♪ I've fallen quite hard over you... ♪♫

It was quiet, soft. But it was earnest. The air around them stirred, roused by a tune, letting the steam of the spring swirl and dance.

♫♪ I won't pretend, I've been anxious ♪♫
♫♪ Just like I've always been ♪♫
♫♪ This time, it's sticking ♪♫
♫♪ And time just stops ticking ♪♫

♫♪ When I have my arms around you... ♪♫

He turned his head, cheek nestled against her hair. The mist around them had caught against his own light, taking on a handsome gold itself, like a sunrise over a fog-dusted lake.

♫♪ Four-leaf clovers and lucky dimes ♪♫
♫♪ Coincidences and cosmic signs ♪♫
♫♪ Have proved that I am quite naive ♪♫

♫♪ I'm falling fast, failing gravity ♪♫
♫♪ And all that I see is serendipity... ♪♫

[odare]

"Ahh..." He exhales a shuddering sigh as John wraps his soft, warm lips around Finnick's aching cock. It feels divine...

And before long there's lube in his hand, and John is on top of him, and his bite feels so achingly sweet, making Finnick squirm slightly. It's as sweet as John and that request and that little blush. God, he could just eat him right up. How can anyone not love John?

"Yes, love, I--" he's cut off by the let you watch, and exhales a small laugh. "Never fails to surprise me, the dirty things that come out of that sweet mouth," he purrs as he generously lubricates his fingers.

He reaches around, gently grabbing John's ass with his clean hand and sliding the lubed fingers into the cleft.

"Just relax for me, alright? It won't hurt, but you have to breathe deeply and not clench. I find kissing helps me relax my muscles, if you like." His clean hand moves up and down John's muscled side, to soothe any nerves.

Once John seems ready, Finnick's middle finger finds his hole, carefully but with precision, like he knew beforehand exactly where it would be. He works his fingertip into John, looking up at him to watch his reactions as he presses gently against the sphincter where all those delicious nerves are.

[holdshisown]

"So I invaded," he confirms. "No. My mind was not what it once had been, that is true, but I was not so far gone that I did not know what I was doing. And that is not all... the silmaril slipped our grasp. One of Dior's children escaped with it."

This part was so much harder to tell. Sirion had been so much worse than anything he'd done previous, but Fingon must know. He can't keep it from him.

"I was sick from what I'd done in Doriath. I... I tried to forswear the Oath then. I did. But it would not leave me be! It haunted me, gnawed at me day and night and it hurt. I held out for as long as I could but I was never going to be able to hold out forever... not anymore."

It had almost been worse than hanging of that damned mountain.

"So when my strength finaly ran out I was not kind. I wrote letters to Elwing as well, but she was no more inclined to return the silmaril to us than her father had been. So we went to Sirion as well, with our swords drawn." And how it hurts to tell this part of it. How the shame of it burns him almost as badly as the silmaril had. "But it was different then Sirion was not a city so much as it was a refuge camp. A place were the remnants of Doriath had fled... and where they were later joined by those who survived the fall of Gondolin. Some of my men turned against me there and I wish they had had the skill to cut me down. But I am far too good at war for them to have stood much chance and so they too I slayed. And I was so very terrible a sight to behold that day that Elwing threw herself off a clif rather than to yield the silmaril."

[arlathvhen]

"Thedas only has two modes: Chaos and the aftermath of the chaos." It's said idly, though as far as Beleth is aware, it's true. It felt like there was always a crisis to either handle, either as it happened, or cleaning up its wake. But she's pretty sure that's not what Felassan is trying to ask, or maybe imply.

"I'm afraid I can't tell you what will happen to her, even if I were to return to Thedas. I stepped aside from my role as Inquisitor, and left with Solas." Has she told him that? Well, she mentioned the scolding circle. "But if she managed to hang on to her position for this long, I think she'll be able to handle the aftermath." She can't guarantee anything, of course. Felassan was right: A lot can happen, especially when a blight nearly destroys the continent and opens up power vacuums.

Then: "Your clothes are wet." Sir, did you see how cold it is outside of the springs?

[arlathvhen]

She nods at his words. Yes, it did feel a bit like that. A foundation they were placing. She might even see the outcome of it, one day, if she ever bothers to poke her head out of the Fade once and a while. Maybe do a little meddling--Flemeth wasn't there to do it anymore, after all.

But no need to share that with this man.

"I did, actually. And a throne. Big and ostentatious. Overlooked the main hall. Didn't see much use, but it made a statement." Mostly for judgements--the official kind. She did plenty of silent judging without it. "Well, they gave me the title of Inquisitor to go along with Herald of Andraste--I collected a few more as time progressed, of course--And after that, I spent most of my time trying to establish diplomatic ties, and rooting out Corypheus' plans and stopping them. The mages and templars, as mentioned. He had Venatori try something with the Grey Wardens--ended up taking a dip in the Fade during that. I do not recommend it, spiders everywhere."

Wait--were there going to be spiders when she left with Solas? Shit. Maybe he'd know a place in the Fade that didn't have spiders.

"It eventually came to pass that we found out that Corypheus was seeking an ancient elven artifact--an eluvian." She turns to Felassan. "I'm sure you heard of them, yes? Mirrors that could transport our ancestors around, like stepping through a door." Because obviously Felassan, a perfectly nice Dalish, would have heard of the ancient, old dusty artifacts of their old, dusty ancestors. "Corypheus meant to use one to step into the Fade, and acquire the power of a god. I'm not sure how that would work, all I got was a great deal of spiders--then again, I am no Magister. But he found a working eluvian..."

Here she turns to face him properly, stopping on the sidewalk. "...In a temple to Mythal, an incredible site that was still fully standing. And fully functional. Even still well guarded, if you can believe it." It's hard to reconcile the excitement she had felt, walking the temple, seeing such an intact part of the civilization of her ancestors, with what she knew about Mythal now. But she could still appreciate what it had stood for, and surely, another Dalish would appreciate it as well.

[holdshisown]

I don't think we'll need the entire night. [The graveyard was not that large.] At least I hope not.

[But he understands the sentiment. Hopefully they'll be able to find something to give them a clue as to who is doing this.

He's pretty sure they do. In fact, he's pretty sure he can see one of them a bit further ahead. He hesitates for a bit, unhoused spirits could be unpredictable and sometimes even dangerous to deal with but it might be it had seen something.]

Stay behind me, lady Maribelle. [He says.] I am going to try to ask that spirit over yonder if it has any information to give us before we begin our search.

[troubadamsel]

"That depends on who you ask. I'll admit to being something of a pessimist." Satisfied with her water's temperature, she began to drink as well.

"When I was taken from my realm, we were about to do have our final battle with a wicked tyrant, freeing his citizens from his bloodthirsty ways... so, as you can imagine, I'm more concerned with the problems of my home than of here. In addition, this place strips us of any power we have, and we must struggle to earn new ways if we're to be of any help."

She held up the chilled cup as an example - this wasn't something she was born with, but had gained during her stay.

[theydrewfirstblood]

John grins and blushes, just as surprised by his own behavior—but it’s more than he can stand. The kind of pleasure Finnick gives him, the care and the warmth and the kindness…it’s nothing John has ever had much of, if any, and he has no defense against it.

It makes him want more, crave more, and…those little bits of filth just slip out in ways that make him burn for Finnick.

Like the anticipation of what’s coming. He takes his advice to heart, just resting his forehead against Finnick’s and shutting his eyes so he can breathe. Slow, deep, sharing Finnick’s air, feeling him close—

The feel of that new touch makes him shiver, but he controls his breathing and stays relaxed. The pressure tears a quiet sound out of him, more surprise than anything, but he stays close, stays relaxed.

Then he feels that fingertip press inside—and that new sensation, intense and strange and good makes his features twist with pleasure as he shivers and gasps, clutching at Finnick’s shoulder as he tries to stay relaxed. It’s hard though, it’s so hard to stay relaxed…

Not because it hurts or feels bad, but because he wants to press into it, tighten his muscles—try to feel that electric thrill of sensation again.

“Oh—oh, that’s…ohhhhhhh…”

[loosed]

Felassan smiles his you're welcome, cheeky in both the metaphorical and literal sense, and lifts his hand from Solas' shoulder to give him a light, harmless flick on the jaw instead, while his mouth is full. He's kind and court-mannered enough — despite all his efforts to dress like a recalcitrant woodsman these days — to swallow most of what is in his mouth before opening it to speak.

The time it takes saves him from feeling the need to answer that I missed you directly, which is for the best. He does not want Solas to say he's sorry again. He doesn't want to have to tell him that it all is forgiven, either. He doesn't want to tell him that it isn't. He would like to take a walk and feel however he likes about it for a while, without concern for how Solas might feel about how he feels.

But he's seen shades of this before: at the end of the rebellion, when Solas was rocked by Mythal's murder, secretive, desperate, unbalanced. Certain he was in it alone even while Felassan tried to catch him long enough to talk about it.

"Maybe a power that can pluck us out of any time and place is not bound to put us back where it first found us," he says, which is different from saying this world's gods might indulge the request. The only 'gods' he has known drew their power from a source beyond them — one that did not belong to them. Until he sees proof this world's gods can not be circumvented and whatever they draw from tapped into directly, without having to bow, scrape, and beg, he'd like to keep believing it. "And if it is, you have an indomitable woman who seems insistent you will not be left alone."

'like' is a strong word.

[thecodexabides]

One thing that's not included in the beloved Codex Astartes is what to do with things like sarcasm, irony or any other contextual language usage.

"General." Throne, everyone here outranks him and it is beginning to get irksome. "So you were not created for this work, either."

In the inadvertent wind sprite trap house behind them came a sudden ruckus. "SILENCE!" Seriously, everyone behave.

[goethbeforethefall]

Solas listens to the proposal, and hears too what he is not saying. It is an audacious supposition, though not without merit. It should not surprising that Felassan is making the suggestion, nor that he came to it independently; they are old hands at opposing the gods, together. Perhaps, with time, they shall be so again.

"We shall see," He agrees. If all else fails, then this is inarguably a second chance, to speak once again to a friend he had thought gone forever, and to see what may come, "...I should go and speak with her. And you will want time to wander."

He knows you. He knows your ways, you ridiculous, feckless thing. Go and eat bugs, or whatever it is you do for fun.

"The bedroom off the courtyard, with the ivy over the door. Officially, it is only the guest room, but it is yours while you wish it. Anything you store there will not be disturbed. You are welcome here, come what may."

[lostinasong]

"Maybe," Grace allowed, brow furrowed. "I wonder why it's not affecting everyone, though. I don't really feel any different. Well--other than being weirded out by the sun not rising and people trying to rip each other's throats out. Metaphorically, I mean." Please no one actually move on to doing that literally!

[goethbeforethefall]

"Perhaps in dreams, you still may. Or perhaps the elven people shall live to build fresh wonders and rise anew," He murmurs, pulling her at last those few precious inches into a kiss. It is chaste and sweet and full of hope, rather than passion, "You will live to see it done, I promise."

Whatever is done, it will be done for her also. He cannot imagine what she would be, had death not stalked every moment of her life, even from her very first breath... But he would give anything, everything, to find out.

"I look forward to opportunity," He says, wry. What would be an insult from anyone else is fond on her lips, a gentle recognition and a welcome one, "Come. Let us go. I find myself weary hot water and visions of the past."

[loosed]

So they are. He glances down, tilts his head in consideration, and retreats to the wall across from her to sit there instead, feet still in the water but the rest allowed to dry.

It would be convenient if the springs plucked something from the forefront of his mind to display now. Briala as a girl, cloak torn away and mask askew, hands in fists that could not have saved her from the highwaymen if Felassan hadn't come silent and inexorable as a creature out of nightmares. Briala by a fire, telling him how her parents were killed in the shemlens' tussling over their throne, about her hopes for the better world she imagined existed among the Dalish.

He could have taken her then to Clan Virnehn. They may even have taken her, after their Keeper lectured him for a while about making them feed a stray. Instead he told her, barely more than a child, that if she wanted a better world she had to turn around and walk back into the mouth of the beast.

But the water is not that obliging. It stays still and dark.

"She was ready," Felassan says after a moment. He won't see the end. It sounds as if Beleth won't, either. But, as with the forests he's watched burn with unworried interest, maybe the Orlais has been scorched clear enough to make room for something new. "Thank you for your hand in it."

[loosed]

For most of what she says, Felassan behaves himself very well. When she recommends against dipping into the Fade, he doesn't so much as huff. When she asks if he's heard of eluvians, he nods with the thoughtfully confused frown of someone who's only read tales and did not quite believe them. Someone should be proud of him. He's proud of him.

It helps that it's fascinating. So much, so quickly. Solas would kill him during a time the world was more interesting than it had been in hundreds of years, and when one of their descendants was sitting on a throne to guide it. The words he doesn't recognize make it all the more interesting, little pieces to puzzle over. He could interrupt to demand definitions, but it's more fun to try to put it together from the context, until —

"Really?" he asks, half gasped, with appropriately Dalish wonder. He's behaved so well. He deserves this. "By what clan?"

[faeshim]

That sounds slightly ominous. It begs the obvious question.

"Who are the ones I should worry about?"

[fundamentalchaos]

"Yeah, we grew up together in a place that pounded in our heads that everyone is out for themselves." He doesn't want to think about just how deep their betrayal really runs. They had all been close, they had all grown up together, they were a family in a way. "And besides, I mean look at the aftermath. I'm lucky to be alive."

The sympathy on Beleth's face almost makes Ashton want to recoil. He knows it's not pity but it still twists their guy a bit before they push the feeling away.

"We did, Dorian killed him while he was trying to escape. We managed to hunt him down...it was...gross. There was a lot more going on than we knew. Back then we were just a bunch of idiots investigating weird shit in Jrusar."

[lettersfrombel]

Finnick's lips are definitely sending a jolt down Bel's spine. He's trying not to rush this encounter there is definitely something nice about knowing this can be a regular occurrence, setting aside mind-altering cocktails.

"If we're all doing it, then maybe it is what you deserve," he murmured. He shifted the position of his head to kiss Finnick on the cheek, and to lean into him.

[getsyourbloodgoing]

He can see the moment it starts to click for her that he has been waiting her out, letting her divulge more and more information to him without him offering any in return. It confirms that maybe she hasn't been around him for a while if she has forgotten some of his techniques and he can't tell if that bothers him or not. Maybe he will have to ask more about where he is and the fate of his Chargers someday.

He can hear it too when she starts to tell him the truth despite her nerves. So he listens, showing no signs of surprise when she talks about Solas wanting to tear down the Fade but needing to remove the gods he had trapped first. Nor does he seem surprised when she tells him who Solas really is.

"So the Evanuris got out and Solas helped? Or it was Varric and his associate?" He asks before arching a brow at her. "What happened to the Fade and all that crap?"

He doesn't like the idea of the Fade coming down because then that means there will be demons running around.

[getsyourbloodgoing]

"Ah," Bull hums with enough recognition to tell her that he knows who she is. Not how but that should be enough for her to at least tell him a little more. She doesn't need to know that the Inquisitor is the one who mentioned her but maybe it isn't that hard to figure out?

"Only if he told the stories that make me look good." He chuckles, remembering all the times Varric had teased him with the idea of making him look like some big oaf. He doesn't think that the dwarf would actually do it but there might be some kind of caricature of him somewhere.